


Clutch

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9578657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Kylo loves her thighs.





	

When he’s been good enough, he gets to pick how he’ll reach his own end. His face aches from the efforts of pleasing her, and the room is rich with the scent of her arousal. He can still taste her when he runs his tongue over his lips, and her soft, gaspy little breaths ring through the room loudly. She’s satisfied, and so now it’s his turn.

He loves everything they do, really, and it’s impossible to say one thing is his ‘favourite’. It’s all his favourite, if they both get off, and hard. But sometimes he wants one thing more than another, and today is one of those days.

Her thighs are oh so strong and soft at once, the muscles bunched durasteel under supple, silky skin. His cock slides between them, brushing at her outer lips and the finest traces of hair as he thrusts, using her power as his pleasure. 

From behind, he can place a hand on her belly and stroke all around. Up her flank, over her breasts and nipples. Over her throat, and back down to the tops of her thighs and the swell of her mound.

Kylo isn’t sure she can come again so soon, but he knows his touches will still be welcome. She likes to be caressed when she’s in the hazy afterglow, and his hand pinches her labia closed and rubs them together between finger and thumb as he ruts his way to his gradual happy ending.

He knows how strong those thighs are, objectively so. They’ve been trapped around his head more than one time, holding him still while he ate her out. Holding him down as his tongue swirled inside her, joining the wet of his mouth with the wet of her lips. He loves the clench, firm and sure as he rolls their bodies together, giving and taking pleasure in equal measure. She is a force of nature, and he is lost and swept up by her waves.

Kylo lets his lips graze over her neck and shoulder, harvesting the crop of her moans. Her breasts will be sensitive and ripe, but his hand is occupied for the moment, and it will have to wait. Down go his lips. Down to the end of a shoulder, up to the base of her skull. Her close-cropped hair means he can smell her deeply and ply his craft there, where she’s as vulnerable as any Human, or mammal can be. Pleasure at the edge of threat has always made them both the keener, after all.

There are no words to begin with, but there doesn’t always need to be any. A lick to her earlobe, a sinking in of teeth as he flicks the thicker flesh, sucks until she moans. Thrust, glide, crush. The emotion swells in his chest, and it’s suddenly vitally important to whisper how much he loves her, how beautiful she is, how blessed he is to have her. How she’s his all, his everything… and he’s rewarded with a hand bent back, into his hair, and whispers in echo that she knows. She knows, and she feels the same.

He does love her. He loves her so much, so very, very much. When the words come, they’re low, almost the sound of moving plates beneath the surface, beneath the earth. Thrust, stroke, tense. She varies her tension around him, giving him just the right amount of a tease to drive him insane, smiling as their lips meet in a kiss.

Her fingers knot in his hair, pulling bubbles of happiness up from his core and into his throat, through their kiss and into a smile. I love you, I love you.

Phasma’s legs tighten further, and he moves to stroke over her belly, her hips, her waist. Up and over her ribs, settling under one breast and cupping it so gently as he wracks himself into her tight-legged embrace. Those thighs ripple just the right amount, and he’s close, so very close.

She reaches down, a single finger rubbing over the tip, under the crown. He’s almost there, and he bites his lower lip to keep himself from coming too soon, but the fingers flick and then her head turns for a kiss, and he can’t help it.

As their lips lock, and his breath hiccups, he feels the familiar warmth pooling, right on the verge. Her hand goes faster, and he cries out against her mouth as his climax hits, warm and wonderful and long, long wanted. He rubs his dick between her legs as he squeezes every last drop from his balls and over her hand. 

Phasma’s palm catches the most of his ejaculate, and she strokes it over her belly, painting herself in victory. He smiles against her smile, and then drops his head back onto the pillow. Nose to her nape, and he puts his hand over hers, feeling the sticky residue, still tasting her on his tongue like fine nectar and ambrosia, sweet and good.

He’s sleepy, so sleepy, and they barely move an inch apart as he drifts off to the darkness. Her legs stay around him, and he smiles, feeling his body sink into the mattress as his mind floats up. So good. He whispers it, but he’s not sure she understands. So good. So…


End file.
